Aura's Story

And he missed!

Waylon had grown too overconfident on the fact that the Trader was rusty on swordplay and forgot that using the same move again rarely worked.

Rather than meet the block, the trader avoided it completely, tossing his cane up in the air and sidestepping the stroke. Waylon went right by him, the momentum carrying him onward. He stepped forward with his left foot to keep the momentum going. However, something yanked on his right leg. The next thing he knew, he was on his back, arms sprawled out, the cane tip being pointed in his direction. And speaking of point...

"I underestimated you," he smiled courteously, picking himself up off the ground. He readied himself in a more swashbuckler stance, his right foot in front of his left.

"1-1," he called, knowing he should've beaten him on that one. "I won't underestimate you any longer."

He stepped forward with an overhead swing heading towards the shoulder, then a side swipe to the head. Backhand side. Spin and a jab. Which way the trader would parry would decide how he continued the sequence.

The first swing and jab were easy to dodge He waited for the next attack. But it was the same as the first. He had not expected it. He miscalculated the block. Then the jab came it hit dead center of the cane making it hit Ras in the head. He stumbled back and laughed. "I guess thats it. You win and I will honor my word" He pulled the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Waylon. "It was a good match. Well take your prize. I think I will be headed out." He began to walk off. "And Waylon if we ever meet again, lets have a rematch. I will find something to gamble with next time." With that he walked off.

It was a win Waylon never expected.

As he stepped forward with the jab, rather than swatting it up, left, right, or even down, the trader held it out in front staff style. This ultimately ended up with the force of the jab pushing the cane back until it hit the trader in the head. And like that, it was over.

The Trader would laugh. "I guess that's it. You win and I will honor my word." Throwing the keys to Waylon, he continued. "It was a good match. Take your prize. I think I will be heading out." He turned to leave and stopped. "And Waylon, if we ever meet again, let's have a rematch. I will find something to gamble with next time."

Waylon smiled, the fellow being more kinder than he anticipated. "Very well. I will look forward to it!" he called back. "Happy travels!"

For a moment, it felt like the world was going to be okay. Like it wasn't a desolate land with danger around every corner. What started off as a tense encounter turned into a friendly bout of skill and ability. This is what the harsh conditions did to people. They turned them into monsters, having to fight for their right to survive, having to do the most immoral of things to even be considered wealthy. Somehow, he felt the trader was the same way. He didn't want the life of a trader, to sell slaves and weapons that he had to steal. However, it was the only life he had to pick.

It was a nice change of pace, for once.

He turned back to the rest of the group. "Here's your weapons," Waylon said, handing him the bag. "For the love of God, don't kill the dude. Forgive and forget." He then turned to the remaining two and unlocked them from the chain. "You guys are free to go if you wish." He then turned to the Immortal girl and Tanya. "Let's get these two inside so we can heal them up real good." he motioned towards his house and went inside.

Brandon looked a Waylon. "your going to just let HIM WALK?" Brandon was furious. He let a slaver walk away.....After wat he done to a little girl?! Brandon rushed to his rifle and pulled it out of the sack. No ammo. He forgot how he was completely out of ammo a while ago, After the standoff with the raiders with Ara, and that nutcase Ras. Brandon threw the gun down onto the dust. He looked over to the little girl.....still breathing, but unconscious. He picked her up bridal style. He looked at Waylon. "See wat he did to her? You let a raider walk away" He grabbed his back pack. "weres Ara?"

The Red didn't leave. It was to far away from the territory of its home. So it just stayed next to Waylon. The raider made a quick escape over the wall. "Thanks you for save me." He attempted to say. Ara walked up to Brandon, Her head down. "Its gone. The garden is gone." She stepped back to show the survivors. Issac still looked pissed. Mark walked past and started to mess with the chains and the pole. Sorose and Kijer Stood ready to catch Tanya if she fell even though Issac was helping her walk.

Waylon saw Brandon show extreme anger towards him. "You're going to just let HIM WALK?" Regardless of what Waylon just asked him to do, Brandon picked up the gun and found it with no ammo. Out of pure frustration, he threw it on the ground.

Meanwhile, the Red decided to stay with Waylon. The Raider took it's opportunity and left with a kind word. Perhaps that would put a good word out to the raiders and they wouldn't get attacked.

"See what he did to her?"

Waylon turned to see Brandon motioning towards the girl.

"You let a raider walk away."

"First, he was human," Waylon replied calmly. "You said it yourself. Second, he showed chivalry, a trait I've never seen in an adversary before, much less a salesman. Men like that aren't born everyday. And third, despite anything that he may have done, he didn't pick the life he lives. Wouldn't you do anything to survive?"

Waylon sighed, "Look, Brandon. Racism is bad. We're the most under appreciated species existing right now. The last thing we need is a repeat of what happened in the past...wars among our own kind. It's what started this whole godforsaken wasteland life in the fucking first place. And thinking that way will cause our race to go extinct."

With that, he walked away, just in time to hear Ara say to Brandon. "It's gone. The garden is gone."

He sighed. He needed to think. He turned to the rest of the group. "Alright guys. Medical supplies are in the living room, underneath the couch. I need Tanya and the Immortal girl prepped. Bandage any exterior wounds they may have, put bones back into place if you have to. Red, if you know anything about medicine, we can use your help. Otherwise, don't get in the way." He picked up a book off the shelf. "I'm going to go prepare." He walked down to the underground aquifer, shutting and locking the door behind him. He didn't want any interruptions.

Waylon knew there was nothing the group could do about the internal bleeding the Immortal girl suffered. He didn't know if Tanya suffered the same or just needed some rest. There was something he could do, however.

The book he had was Titled: The Magic Behind Fire. The chapter he'd flipped to was entitled "The Essence of Holy Fire". He began reading.

"First, he was human," Waylon said, as calmly as ever. How can he be calm? He wasn't human. How could any body do that to there own people?

"You said it yourself. Second, he showed chivalry, a trait I've never seen in an adversary before, much less a salesman. Men like that aren't born everyday. And third, despite anything that he may have done, he didn't pick the life he lives. Wouldn't you do anything to survive?" Waylon continued. Brandon looked him straight in the eye. "Hes not human, hes a vermin, and vermin need to be destroyed. He leeches off unsuspecting people, and beats little girls! Yeah, I get stealing for survival, but forcing a individual ito submission? That's terrible."

Brandon looked at Ara "It's gone. The garden is gone" She said......."WHAT THE FUCK!" Brandon yelled. "I didn't even get to see it! NOT Even a fucking glipse, What the hell happen!?" Brandon asked

Sores took the kid from Brandon. Him and mark walked into the house. Tanya seen the girl, "Put all your focus on her. I have come this far i can wait a bit." Without hesitation they got to work. Marks Fingertips started to glow as he put his hand on her head. Instantly he bent over from pain. He removed his hand.

They laid the girl on the table. Sores looked to Mark looking for answers. Mark thought for a moment. "3 Broken ribs. A chip of a rib is in the wall of her stomach but didn't get thru. Not just that but there is some problems in the whole stomach region. Just a mess. She will need some surgery. I know you might be rusty but you think you can handle it." Sores looked up. "Not a doubt in my mind." Mark went and got the medical supplies while sores removed the crusted clothes.

It was horrific there were cuts bruises and blisters everywhere even a burn mark here and there. Issac came in making some chemicals and disinfectants. They began work immediately. Mark put a large cotton ball in his mouth, sat down, and then put his glowing hand on the girls head. As Sores began to make cuts so he could work on the ribs. Mark reacted as if he was the one getting cut open. They took some of the chemicals that when touched after a period of time harden. They would use this for the for the repairing of the broken ribs. One of the ribs acted as if it had exploded. So they had to fish out bones out of the area. There were so many fragments they weren't sure if they could get them all out.

After about an hour of sweat blood and lots and lots of the compound and stitches they were done. There was some blood loss not that much which was surprising. Sores put a blanket over the little girl as if she were asleep. It was still not a sure guess if she would make it or not though Mark was shaking with pain. Issac was helping find out what was wrong with Tanya in the meantime. Luckily it was only cracked ribs, collarbone, and a sprained ankle. Mark had trouble standing. But he finally got up. Sweat covered his forehead. He walked out shakingly to Brandon. "I-I think i-it went well. I-I m-made sure sh-she didn't f-feel a th-thing." He sat down on the ground. "B-but its s-still not a good i-idea to s-see her. Sor-es H-has to keep w-watch and n-needs to be a-alone." He looked up at Brandon with his glowing orange eyes. "B-but if you must s-see her." He set his hand on Brandon's shoulder. "J-Just don't g-get close." Mark tried his best to work up a smile but the pain almost prevented it. So all he could do was reassuring smirk.

Waylon closed the book, having read all he could need. How can something that causes healing be so deadly to use?

Whatever, he thought, so long as he didn't mess up anything, all should go smoothly.

Waylon appeared out of the aquifer and got straight to work. He looked for an incense and found a bag of Makko Powder. While there, he got the sugar he would need. He saw the tree he had to the side, realizing it's genus was Commiphora, the type of tree that contained Myrrh, another important ingredient. He grabbed the tree and placed it in an open area. Now for the gold...

Gold would be the hard ingredient to locate, but luckily he had some. He ran up the stairs of the building and into the attic. There was nothing there but a box. Waylon pulled out a silver key as he approached. The box had a silver lock.

"Sorry Dad," he muttered and opened the box. Inside was his great grandfather's old wedding ring, the one he'd used to propose to his great grandmother. The relic was a rarity nowadays and would solve a lot of money problems in the world.

And he was about to use it to own the ability of Holy Fire.

This was an advanced procedure. He needed the exact right amount of everything, otherwise the ritual would mess up and anything could happen, even blowing up the house and killing everyone inside. He'd need to be careful.

He could measure the amount of incense and myrrh needed easily. Gold would be a different matter since he couldn't really smelt the stuff and pour it into a cup. Hopefully, when he performed it, it would draw the right amount needed.

Now for the set-up.

He grabbed the sugar and started forming a cross out of it. This ritual wasn't predetermined by God or anything like that. This was just how the Alchemist and Magic Masters set it up. Apparently, they had a sense of practicality.

When the cross was set, Waylon set up a pile of incense on the left side of the cross and set it alight using his embers. He did the same to gold at the top and the tree containing myrrh on the right side. Waylon, staying within the boundaries of the sugar (leaving the boundaries the sugar set for him could have lethal consequences), walked to the bottom of the cross and sat down, criss-cross. Now for the personally hard part.

He'd never performed a ritual on his own before. Hell, he'd never conjured a fireball before in his life. And now he'd not only have to conjure one, but make it float and send it on the path set by the sugar to each smoldering pile, staying in the smoke for at minimum five seconds to collect the substance in it. This would take incredible concentration and a lot of beginners luck. Waylon started breathing.

In...out.....in.......out................in...................................out...with each breath, Waylon concentrated harder and harder. He felt the power surging in his fingertips. He closed his eyes, gathering the smells each substance put off. It was nice, smelling almost...heavenly.

The power, rather than falter inside him like he expected, swelled. It roared through him in the form of pure energy. Suddenly, he felt like he could do this. Not yet, he reminded himself as he continued to breathe...continued to concentrate.

...in...

The power roared through him, filling every crevice in his body. He felt warm.

...out...

Waylon felt tingly in his back. Now.

He opened his eyes and held out his hand as if trying to catch something. But instead, there was a gleaming beacon of light, levitating in his palm. He'd done it! He'd conjured a fireball.

Waylon quickly reminded himself that this was only part of the battle. He'd need to send it to each burning pile before the essence he needed from each burned out. He started slowly, not moving from his spot, but guiding the fireball in his mind along the path he lay for him in sugar. Surprisingly enough, it worked. The fireball was moving forward, staying steadily within the boundaries he'd set. He still felt the power, felt the connection between him and the fireball. Things were going good.

The fireball reached the center of the cross. He focused it to go left. It obeyed. It approached the Mokka Powder, a.k.a the Incense that was alight. He made the fireball stop in the smoke of the burning pile, letting it sit there for five seconds. After counting, Waylon concentrated on making it go right. He was getting used to it.

As the fireball hit the center again and went up, towards the gold ring, Waylon suddenly felt the energy in him begin to die. It was taking the fire energy he had and placing it into keeping the fireball alight and moving. Now he understood the race against time. The fireball was in the smoke of the ring. Two...three...four...five...he moved the fireball out of there. His hands and feet began to shake slightly. The energy was fading quickly.

Waylon continued to concentrate, mostly out of desperation at this point. He'd rounded the third corner and found that his whole mind was on the fireball. His body was shaking immensely. He saw the flame falter. NO! He screamed in his head and forgot everything except the fireball. He and the flame were one. The flame brightened to what it was originally and continued on his journey.

Four...five...it took everything for Waylon to even count and move the fireball out of the myrrh-filled smoke. He concentrated on the smell, the fireball, the movement...anything but what he was going through. His reserves were almost empty.

As the fireball hit the center of the cross again and made it's way back to Waylon, he saw the appearance change. Rather than the typical red or orange flame that it was when he conjured it, it was a bright vibrant yellow. The tips of the flames were extremely white as they danced around, flickering as they would. Almost there. Home stretch!

Waylon reached out to touch it, keeping all concentration on it. His body was most likely convulsing. He put one last effort into it, giving the flame everything he had left to complete it's journey.

He touched the flame.

The flame absorbed itself into Waylon, flooding his body with holy power. Waylon fell forward, exhausted. The burning had stopped, the smell was gone. He looked up and found that everything he'd used in the ritual was gone, even the sugar.

Did it work? Waylon could barely stand as he picked himself off the ground, leaning on the wall. He concentrated on making holy fire. Sure enough, the vibrant yellow and white flame appeared in his hand, a small one since he'd used so much energy to be able to do this in the first place. But he'd done it.

He sighed, relief flooding through him. He stumbled back down the stairs and into the living room. From what he saw, Mark had operated successfully on the Immortal girl, but had used his own healing power to do it, which caused him suffering in the form of pain. Tanya had not been treated on yet. He knew he could heal the both of them.

"Mark...come here..." he called out faintly. "You too...Tanya..." Sweat was pouring out of him, his hands were still a little shaky. Only effort kept him going as he motioned the two in his direction.

Mark tried to stand but failed. He was in too much pain. Every thing the girl felt he felt. He stole her pain. Tanya hobbled over. "Yea?" She held her ribs. It hurt to move.

The girl moved slightly when Brandon talked. It was just a slight tilt of the head.

Rorik walked in. His side was no longer bleeding. He just waved and said "Hi."

Mark tried to make it, but ended up falling over. Tanya hobbled over successfully. Waylon nodded his head.

"Lift your arm," he asked her. When she did, he grabbed it and used his newly found ability to conjure fire on her arm. The Holy Fire worked like this...direct contact from the palm to the injured person was the fastest way to heal someone, it took literally seconds. It also requires the most energy to do. If the flame touched the injured person, the healing would take a few minutes, but it took less energy. The heat put off by the Holy Fire healed slowly, over the course of hours, but it affected a wider radius.

"Don't be afraid, it'll take a little time to work. But it will soon enough." Waylon stumbled over to the fallen Mark. "Here," he said and placed some Holy Fire on him. "The pain will go away soon, just don't put it out yet." He looked around..."Where's the girl? Is she..." before he could finish, his exhaustion finally caught up with him to the fullest extent. He collapsed, sleep overcoming him instantly. He was out before he hit the floor."

Tanya was fine. She inspected her body for burns. There was none. She turned around. "Waylon, How did you do..." Waylon was out. "...do we leave him on the floor?"

Some of mark's pain was gone. not much but some and that was good enough. He laid back to rest. Ara just sat with her head down. "Do you know any way we can find out where they are or where they are going?" She asked as she looked up.

Sores came out of the room they used for surgery. "She will make it." Mark then said. "We need to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we can find out whatever we need so that we can get your daughter Aura." Sores walked to one of the bedrooms and looked to Ara. "Tomorrow is the day isn't it?" Ara just nods.

Brandon Saw the little girl tilt his head.....It surprised him....but she didn't seam like she was wakeing up. But it was getting to ne night time...time for bed. Brandon made a straw pallet by the immortal girls bed. It was scratchy, and hard, butbetter than the harder ground. After awhile, he took off his gasmask and went into a deep sleep......

After hearing what had happened to Aura's people she wanted so stay up and comfort her. Tomorrow was not going to be a good day. Ara stood up and gave Aura a hug. "I know whats its like to lose everything you care about. I have had it happen twice. But we must try to sleep." She knew that wasn't going to happen to either of them. For tomorrow was the anniversary.

Night came and gone. Ara just laid in the darkness. All night. Along with sores and Tanya. The next morning was off. No one talked. Just sat there. Mark, the girl, Rorik and Kijer were the few asleep. Ara sat looking out a window over the wall that bordered the city.

"Gah, wha?"

Waylon blinked. He was staring at his ceiling. He didn't want to move. There was some comfort in this position. It was warm, but not too hot. It was peaceful, if only for a moment. He was on a dreamy state, but he wasn't drained anymore from what happened last night.

Last night! Waylon lifted his upper torso and regretted his decision immediately. The floor was hard, so he had pains and cricks all over his body. He'd have to walk to shake them out. No one placed me in my bed or even on the sofa? Waylon thought irritably.

He looked around the room, raking his hand through his hair. Everyone was asleep except for Ara. She was looking out the window. Had she not slept?

Waylon tip-toed his way around everyone, stopping to see if Tanya and Mark were completely healed. Tanya slept peacefully while Mark's breath was slightly ragged. It hadn't worked all the way, but maybe that was a side effect of the Immortal's own heling ability. He stepped to Ara.

"Mornin'," he whispered so as not to wake anyone else. "Why are you up early?" He knew Ara felt guilt for what happened yesterday. The oasis was gone and it was kind of his fault for putting her in this state of grief, blaming her when it turned out not to be Brandon. He didn't even know if she invited Ooye'Yar or Dia'Aka or whatever the fuck face's name was. He had to set some degree of things right.

"Its the anniversary of what sent us here in the first place." A tear came to her eye. She then looked away. "It was my fault." Sores stood in the doorway to the makeshift operation room. He motioned for Waylon to follow. Sores walked outside to the front door and waited for Waylon.

"If it wasn't for Mark she would have died from the sheer pain. He blends two forms of magic and focuses in special points in the brain. Mark steals the pain. He feels all the pain she would have felt while she feels nothing. Because of this she will be fine and will live."

Waylon nodded at this. But that meant that she was still broken in terms of actual organs and such. It is true that the body has a pain limit and can send the nervous system into shock. He thanked Mark for preventing that. But now, Waylon could get into some real healing, stress testing his newly found ability.

"But that's not what i wanted to tell you. So you know how Ooye'Yar was apart of that group and he was talking about the group before them that was trying to over through the Aros king? That was us. We had a good thing going but something happened and we fucked up. But we tried not to worry about it. So really it was all our fault. I don't blame Ara. But Issac did. Issac holds a grudge. Because it caused the life of His husband, Mark's wife and daughter, Tanya's twin sister, and Me and Ara lost our unborn child. And because of Issac She thinks it was all her fault. We all blame ourselves for getting cocky. But she took it the worse."

Sores turned, "Today is the anniversary of the day we all got our loved ones killed. We decided to leave the city after that and all the people we had to back us up, the entire resistance fell. This was 2 years ago."

Waylon frowned at this. This explained some, but actually left more questions than answers. He started with the one that stuck out to him. "So why does Issac link the fuck-up to Ara? What did she do that pissed Issac off so much?"

Before Sores could answer, the Immortal girl was awake and in pain. "This can wait," he told Sores and turned his attention to the Immortal. "Good morning. How ya feelin'?"

He looked into the living room "Brandon! Your girlfriend is up." he called in there, but it was more of a reminder to the rest of the group to wake up. They had a lot to talk about, despite the amount of grief in the air. He noticed that the Red still hadn't taken off as he was sleeping on the couch. We'll have to find a place for him, Waylon thought before turning back to the girl. "Any pain, sores, bruises? Any places where the pain is too much to move?"

The little girl looked to waylon. "No just in the sketches." She looked around "Where am I?" She tried to stand up but stopped when she seen the room with all the people in it. "Where is the man with the cane?"

"No, just in the sketches," Waylon sighed in relief. Thank God the trader didn't leave anything everlasting.

"Where am I?" she asked, "Where is the man with the cane?"

"Well, you're with good company. I'll give you that much," Waylon smiled at her. "The man with the cane got a good ol' fashioned beat down delivered by yours truly. And you are currently laying on my kitchen counter, where we placed you and fixed you up. Well, I didn't do that unfortunately, but Mark over here did." He pointed at Mark. "I'm Waylon, by the way. What may your name be?"

"I'm Nami Tenara DeGara," she said, "Thank you for saving me from that man."

"I'll just call you Nami for short," Waylon suggested.

"So where are the other people who were with me?" she asked.

"Well, the raider ran off into the night. The Red is right here. And BRANDON!" he called out his name once more, trying to get his attention. "Brandon is the human with the gas mask. He was part of our group until he got kidnapped."

Waylon inspected Nami. "Are you sure you're okay? From what I was told, your injuries were extremely severe."